Page 78 of Home Field Advantage
“I know.”
“I’m really different.”
“I know.”
My chest feels tight, like my heart is inching closer to the surface and ready to burst free from my ribcage. My palms feel sweaty, and I try to brush them on my jeans.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder a few years back,” I finally admit. It feels like a foreign language coming out of my mouth as I don’t think I’ve ever said it to anyone other than my therapist. “But I’m in therapy for it and everything. We’re working on making it not take over my life anymore,” I rattle off quickly, as if to defend myself. “It makes me feel a little crazy sometimes.”
Dallas pauses, as if he’s absorbing everything I have to say.
There’s no disgust in his features, though. He’s simply processing.
He feels so far away from where he stands near the fireplace, like there are miles between us. He closes the gap, he’s in front of me, lifting my chin to meet his stare with just his finger—a feather-like touch.
“That doesn’t make you crazy, Poppy. It makes you human.”
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I never knew how much I needed to hear something like that. I’m certain my therapist has said those exact words. This feels different. Coming from Dallas, everything feels different.
He must sense the shift in my body, the way it relaxes with his words. His fingertips trail along my jaw until he’s tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “The most beautiful thing about you is who you are. Besides, everyone’s a little crazy in their own way.” He laughs. “I don’t know enough about your past, and I don’t know if there was someone who made you think this way, but Poppy, you shouldn’t hide who you are because of it.”
A tear breaks free, and Dallas quickly swipes his thumb to brush it away.
“I feel like I’ve had this most of my life,” I admit. “I’ve always had weird quirks that I thought were normal—lining things up, organizing them, or ensuring that all the light switches are either up or down. I’ve always been the type of person who, when I can’t stop thinking about doing something, I have to do it. No matter what it takes. In college, I knew I wanted to teach first grade. I was willing to do whatever it took to get there.”
“I can relate to that.”
Dallas makes me feel safe enough to let the walls come down in front of him. There’s this pull in my chest to let him see all the parts I’ve kept locked away from the world. I want Dallas to understand me, and with everything I’ve just told him, he hasn’t so much as flinched. He’s not judging me or running away.
His steady presence makes me feel like I can keep sharing more.
Like I don’t have to carry all of this on my own anymore.
“I had a boyfriend at the time,” I continue. Dallas stiffens at my words, even though it’s in the past. “He basically said the way I prioritized my career and daily routine was just too much for him. He made me feel like I wasn’t enough. And maybe I screwed up. Maybe I should have put him first?—”
He holds up a hand to stop me. “No.”
I tilt my head to the side in question.
“First of all, fuck him.” That forces a weak laugh out of me. “Second of all, if he cared about you in any sense of the word, he would have pushed you to be the best you could be. He would have pushed you to see the success you craved. It makes my blood boil right now that you’ve spent all this time thinking you’re less than what you are because of that.”
All this time, I’ve been terrified of being vulnerable with anyone.
Dallas is showing me that it’s not a weakness. It’s the courage to be seen as you truly are.
When it’s met with care, the way he is doing right now, it’slike the weight of the world has just lifted off my shoulders. It feels like exhaling for the first time in a long time.
“I guess, because of that, I thought most guys wouldn’t want to deal with something like that.”
I try to look away, emotions ripping through me like a tornado.
He grips my chin, forcing me to keep looking at him.
“I’m not most guys.”
